Heart-Bound

HeartBound

Chapter 1: Awakening

Hi, I'm your narrator, Sasha Sully and no, I'm not related to that pilot that landed a plane on a river.

I have red hair, a band of freckles that crosses my cheeks and the bridge of my nose and freckled shoulders. That's all from my mom. I have hazel eyes and, while I return to a pale complexion every winter as I hide from the cold like it was the goddamn Babadook, I actually rock a decent tan during the summer months, I get that from my dad.

My story starts my freshman year of college. At an undisclosed girls dorm room, in the United States.

I was undeclared and on a scholarship because I got damn good grades in High School, except in math which was and still is my Kryptonite. I was eighteen and assigned a spot in the women's dorms, which is how I met Claire. My first impression of her was... '

Oh... She seems like she might be nerdy'

. Which is exactly what I was. She had a half sleeve tattoo on her left arm depicting various scenes and characters of a well known fantasy book. It was dope as fuck. She was wearing jeans and a hoodie and handling her few boxes like a pro. I said "Hi" and gestured to her half of the way-too-small dorm room. When her Dad came in I realized I was wearing

really

short workout shorts. I was about to cover up when I saw her other Dad come in. That's how she introduced them. "These are my Dads." Simple. Matter-of-fact. I knew then that we would get along fine.

The dorm was small and simple, there was a short hallway of maybe five feet from the door to the main room where there were two beds, with bedside tables, and two armoires. One of each for both students. Off the hallway was the single sink vanity and beyond it hidden by a half wall and no door was the toilet then shower. Opposite the bathroom was a built-in shelf with outlets above and below, so you could put in a microwave, George Foreman grill, mini-fridge or to use as a desk I guess. You could see both beds fully within two steps of walking in the door so really there was no privacy unless you were in the vanity slash bathroom, the toilet of which, I must remind you, had no fucking door.

So her Dads helped her get her stuff moved in and I pretended to be busy reading '

Beyond Good and Evil

' by Nietzche but I was too distracted listening to them. They had an awesome funny banter about them that made me smile behind my book. Once they were gone I set aside my book, and introduced myself properly. Claire seemed shy at first, but I made a joke about her half-sleeve being the one-ink-to-rule-them-all and she started to open up. Claire explained she was an art major, I asked about her tattoo, it was her design, mostly. She had apprenticed at a tattoo parlor the summer after high school, designing tattoos and stuff mostly, and had done simple tattoos on fruit... I think it was orange peels. She had the Triforce on one of her ring fingers, which was fucking awesome, and we bonded over literature and video games.

I should probably mention that she was pretty, too. Long brown hair, and I mean down to the small of her back long. Tan skin, for a fellow Caucasian. She confessed she'd recently lost weight. She was still self conscious about her body, albeit less so than before she lost the weight. We bonded over the awkwardness of male gaze. She had actually come down from an I-Cup over the summer because she lost 30 lbs, and whenever you lose that much weight at least some of it is bound to come out of your breasts. Sorry guys, those are just science facts.

Within a few weeks we had learned each others' schedules, become study buddies, and I daresay good friends. I was undeclared but thought I'd go into editing, or publishing. I thought I was a so-so writer, but I felt like I was a good editor. To me, it was all about pacing. Working your way slowly towards the climax, building up anticipation in the first act, tension in the second act. Holding it all back until the big climax. Yeah... that.

Within a few months we were getting into the routine of our classes. We went shopping together a few times, giggling and cramming into a changing room together to try on outfits and provide constructive feedback was a highlight. We both had to try everything on. I was a few inches taller than her, and thin, trying to find skinny jeans that made my ass look good. She was shorter, and a little more heavy set, but despite what she might say, was absolutely beautiful. She had a great ass and could wear anything that wasn't a t-shirt or turtleneck and have a mile of cleavage.

I'll admit I was jealous of her breasts. I tried bitching about bra shopping on one trip and I thought she was gonna slap me.

"Bish! At least they carry your size! Stores give up after F-Cups, as in, if you're bigger than this Fuck you." she said

I laughed, "You're a salty bish"

"You're a stupid bitch" she said playfully.

"You're a silly baaatch" I replied.

"You're a saucy biaaatch"

Thus was born a running joke that continued throughout our lives.

One day after I had just finished my Anatomy & Physiology homework for Bio 101 I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do to pass the time. I thought I could go for a jog, we had a TV, but no cable. It was there to hook up to my Xbox so we could watch movies or play games. My eyes drifted to my laptop. Then my bottom drawer. Then to my watch. Yeah. I had time. At

least

two hours before Claire got back from her Art class. I grabbed my vibrator from underneath the collection of pajama pants in the bottom drawer of my armoire. I checked to make sure it worked and was rewarded with a satisfying buzz. A promise of things to come.

I flopped onto my bed on my stomach and opened my laptop. Logged onto the dorm Wi-Fi, then my VPN, and went to my favorite site. I plugged in my headphones, a really nice set of noise canceling ones that I used for gaming. I looked up lesbian stuff but after sitting through a few videos I just... couldn't get my head into it.

The girls were beautiful but the stories were just not compelling. Lesbian girl seduces her straight BFF, clearly written by a guy. I'm sure it has happened somewhere, a lesbian cracking her best friend's egg. However, girls -- even lesbian girls -- can have platonic friendships with women. I knew what would do it though. I had one go-to that never failed. BDSM.

I found a video.

The Domme had long black hair in a tight ponytail. She was wearing thigh high boots, a top with a choker and a cutaway to reveal her breasts and pierced nipples, and a black thong. The sub had short blond hair framing her face. She was bound nude in an old school stockade, her head and hands locked into their respective holes and her feet cuffed and chained to the floor.

The Domme explained the rules of the game, as she walked around the sub, surveying her body, a paddle in her hands.

"Call me Mistress, and answer when I speak to you. What is your safe word?"

"Sheep."

SPANK! "Sheep what?"

"Mistress!"

"Good girl. You deserve a reward" she walked around behind her.

I pulled off my shorts. I wasn't wearing panties.

She started slow, with a gloved hand massaging the subs labia as the woman whimpered. It was a needful sound.

I felt myself stirring. That familiar feeling building deep, deep in my abdomen.

"Do you want your reward?"

"Yes... yes... please..."

SPANK! "Yes what?"

"Yes, Mistress!" she squeals.

SPANK! "Louder!" the Domme said as the sub moaned.

My fingers slid down between my thighs, my vibrator was set aside for the moment.

"YES, MISTRESS!"

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

The subs eyes were pleading, her breaths ragged, "Yes, Mistress."

"Good, then hold onto this and don't let it drop on the dirty floor." She put the handle of the paddle in the girl's mouth, then walked behind her, rubbing her labia. Gently at first, then parting her lips she slid two fingers inside her.

At the same moment, I did the same.

She fingered the sub slowly at first, then built up the pace... The sub was moaning through the handle in her mouth.

I worked my fingers deeper, my other hand reached for the vibrator.

The Domme stopped suddenly, retracting her hand, "Do you want to cum now?"

Through the handle, "Yeh, maahheemm"

"Was that Ma'am or Mistress, slut?"

The sub rattled the chains at her feet, squirming, stomping, "MAAHHEEMM! MAAHEEEMMM!"

The Domme grabs a wand from the table... You know the one, long handle, numerous power settings, large round vibrating head. In vanilla shops,

if

you see one, it's labeled "Back Massager."

I pressed the vibrator to my clit and felt an instant surge of new sensations, both hands were between my thighs so I had rolled uncomfortably onto one shoulder to turn my eyes to the monitor. My tank top was still on, adding a layer of discomfort, but I didn't want to stop to remove it. The discomfort was a minor inconvenience at this stage however, and I stared pleadingly at the laptop monitor, begging the Domme to use the wand on me... her.

The Domme pressed the wand to the woman's clit.

Using my thumb and forefinger I turned my vibe up as high as it would go.

The reaction from the sub was immediate, her head jolting backwards, hitting on the wood of the stockade, her hands once relaxed and limp ball into fists, her back arched upwards at first, then downward presenting herself to the Domme.

I could feel myself getting closer, building towards release. The heat fueled intensity in my body became unbearable, threatening to overwhelm me.

The sub's moans through the handle increased in frequency and pitch until every exhale was a high-pitched plaintive "

Ughhh

".

I bit my lower lip, my knee jerked inwards and I flopped over by accident. There was a brief moment of panic where I wondered if I was falling off the bed. I didn't.

I was on my back on the outer edge, my knees drawn up and spread. I couldn't see the monitor without propping my head up and looking at it upside down but it didn't matter.

I clenched my eyes shut. I wasn't in my dorm room. I was in a dungeon.

Her

dungeon. So desperately close.

I was vaguely aware of the sub shouting "Huuuck Huuuck Huuuck

Ooooommmm

!" through my headphones....

My back arched, and my legs shook as I wormed a third finger into me, pressing them all in deep. I reveled in the added pressure on my walls. I moved the vibrator on my clit in jerking motions as I got closer and closer to the edge, desperate to plunge off the end and into oblivion. I muttered "

Mistress please.

"

...The sub screamed out in ecstasy and there was a clatter,

"You dropped my paddle slut!"

The rest of the audio drifted away from my conscious mind.

I released my breath through gritted teeth as my body shuddered, I was so close, I sucked in air through my teeth, my hips grinding into my fingers and the vibrator.

I sucked in a breath and held it, everything building to that one moment, that last need fulfilled. My hips thrust up then my legs shot flat, dropping my ass on the bed as I orgasmed.

My legs quivered slightly and I went limp laying back on my bed. Back in my dorm room. The dungeon was gone and so was the Mistress. I laid there, legs spread and quivering. My vibrator discarded somewhere between my thighs as I caught my breath.

I shoved the headphones off my head lazily, it caught my hair and pulled it but I was too out of breath and exhausted to care. I laid there with my eyes closed and realized this wasn't enough. It was a rare epiphany.

I'd been masturbating to stuff like this, and it never failed but it was not enough. I was always left feeling empty after. I needed more. I wanted to be the girl in the video. Tied, bound, used. I wanted to know what it's

really

like. No... I

needed

to know what it's really like. I was beginning to think I'd never be truly satisfied until I did.

Having caught my breath I reached up with both hands, my eyes still closed as I carefully untangled my hair from the headphones and set them aside. I was dimly aware in my post-orgasm stupor of the video still playing.

I decided I should get up and shower. A nice cold shower to help me relax, plus I needed to clean my vibe. I propped myself up on my elbows and pulled my spread legs up so my knees were level with my shoulders in preparation to stand.

I opened my eyes to see Claire standing in the hallway, jaw agape staring back at me, at my half naked body and what I can only assume was a blond woman in a stockade getting spanked by a woman in black leather on the monitor behind me. We stared at each other in silence. The only sound was the muffled buzz of the still running vibrator under my legs.